The weekend saw the annual jamboree that is the Welsh Masters of golf. This prestigious competition (one of the big tournaments of the year for the Socialist Golf Society) is always witness to golf of the very highest order. Heavyweights of the sport slugging it out over two rounds in order to win the coveted trophy and bathe in the resultant glory.
The only fly in the ointment was the forecast of miserable weather. A warm up round in Staffordshire on Friday night only led to a thorough soaking and a deep desire to get paralytically pissed. Drunkenness inevitably followed, as did the inevitable hangover the next morning. My thumping head was greeted with ridicule by my unsympathetic comrades (justifiable I might add) who were gleeful that yours truly was out of the equation. The round at Celtic Manor was understandably awful.
The next morning saw two things. Firstly my fellow gladiators in a pathetically sorry state after three or four bottles of red wine too many; and secondly the rain pissing it down outside. The course for day two was closed. Damn what do we do? Head for the sun was the answer. So off we scooted down the M4 to Reading. Yes a 100 mile journey only to walk straight into a thunderstorm on the 4th hole. The funniest sight of the weekend was leading a group of panicked golfers hot footing it to the clubhouse to escape imminent death. Although I didn't witness it one of our merry throng even threw himself to the floor after one particularly close bolt of lightning.
The weather is crap. I hate all this rain. It felt like the tournament was being ruined because of it. But the golfers of the SGS were not to be beaten and are made of stern stuff, and the award for the Welsh Masters golfer for 2007 was greeted with universal acclaim. Once again the Socialist Golf Society had prevailed. Golf was the winner but the weather is still shit.
Placebo - English Summer Rain (mp3)
The Pixies - Stormy Weather (mp3)
Buy Placebo here and The Pixies right here
1 comment:
SNAP - I too am an 11 handicapper. Unfortunately my playing partners were not so accomadating as your Canadian neighbours and put me to the sword. Such is golf.
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